


Cross That Line

by MooseDeEvita



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Love, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 12:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14748884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseDeEvita/pseuds/MooseDeEvita
Summary: While traveling from town to town to lure Jamie back to them, Murtagh and Claire turn to each other for physical comfort.  After all, confessions of lost love go so well with an ocean view and a sky full of stars.   A bit of a deleted scene in episode 14 "The Search" after they hug in the cave by the sea.





	Cross That Line

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Murtagh was my favorite, aside from Angus. Now I know that absolutely no one would read the Angus fanfic that is swirling around in my head, but hopefully someone enjoys this story as much as I enjoyed thinking it up!

Cross that Line

They had settled down within a small cave, it’s doorway opening out to the ocean. Traveling back and forth along the rugged countryside had begun to take a toll on Claire’s optimism along with her energy.  She and Murtagh had been riding from town to town in the hopes of attracting Jamie’s attention, but so far it had not been a success.

Truth be told, the only thing that seemed to have been accomplished was that her singing skills were getting sharper.  

Day after day, riding side by side she and Murtagh had developed a deep level of comfort with one another.  Performing each night to a crowd, gathering what little money was given before falling asleep under the stars with their horses.  It really was a matter of time before those dark clouds behind Murtagh’s dark eyes finally gave way to a full blown storm.

Claire stared out at the dark night, letting the sound of the waves crashing against the shore wash over her ears.  She was tired of feeling like a failure, tired of being so full of worry that she could barely breathe, and just plain tired on top of it all.  They were all but out of money, having foolishly given it to an untrustworthy man who gave his word. Food was low, but neither had allowed the supply of wine to run short.  They had began a sad routine each night of filling their hollow, empty bellies with wine before falling into a restless sleep.

Not that it was a good excuse, but this feeling of ceaseless exhaustion, along with a hearty serving of very strong wine, was what caused her to snap at Murtagh.  Instead of the fight that she had expected, even rehearsed retorts to inside her head, Murtagh broke down. Those storm clouds were full of loss and devastation as he admitted to having lost his one love to another man.  

Reaching into her bag, Claire pulled out the beautiful tusk bracelets.  She let her eyes run along the smooth bone before studying the silver tips.  Murtagh gave a little sob when he saw what she was holding, before delicately taking the tusks into his hands.  

“You think you’re the only one who loves Jamie.  He’s a son to me.” Murtagh said, his voice breaking off, heavy with emotion.

“I’m sorry.” She gasped.

As she was pulled into Murtagh’s arms, a sigh escaped her lips that she didn’t know she had been holding in.

It had been so long since Jamie was captured and escaped into the wilderness.  Missing him had become a part of her, like a constant companion along the road.  The sound of his voice had become an echo in her mind, his beautiful face blurred along the edges.  Longing consumed her, a natural force against her will.

Physical comfort was something she was sorely missing, so just the act of being pulled into a man’s arms and pressed against him was overwhelming.  Claire leaned into the hug, turning so that her face could fit in the space where Murtagh’s shoulder met his neck. With each deep breath that she took, she inhaled the comforting scent of smoke, alcohol and earth.  It wasn’t the scent that she longed for, but it would do.

They stayed together holding on tightly to one another as the stars shone overhead.  Claire buried her face against Murtagh’s neck, her fingers digging into the thick wool of his jacket, and she let out a long breath.  Gently, she pulled back to stare up at Murtagh.

“It truly has been an enormous comfort having you beside me through all of this.” Claire said softly.

Murtagh nodded, his dark eyes locking with her own in the dim firelight.  She could see the flames flicker and dance in the reflection of his eyes as well as cast dancing shadows against the cave walls.  

“I don’t know if I could ever thank you properly for all that you have done for me.”  

Claire had a sudden flash of memory of Murtagh rescuing her from Jack Randall, his large hand covering her mouth to silence her.  He had protected her back then, without even knowing her at all. He owed her nothing, and yet saved her life. Any number of horrible scenarios ran through her head of what could have become of her if he had not come along.  

“May I ask what caused you to stop and rescue me that day in the woods?  I was a total stranger, and an English woman.”

Murtagh cleared his throat, the sound vibrating against Claire’s hands against his strong shoulders.  He gazed down at her for a minute before choosing to answer.

“At first I thought you were a ghost.  I could not believe my eyes when I spotted you out there, running through the trees as if you were straight from a dream.  A memory, more like. So I had no choice but to go to you, protect you.” His voice came out quietly, barely louder than the water behind them.

“A ghost? Oh.”  Claire caught on, her voice trailing off into the night.

Of course.  He had just admitted to having loved Jamie’s mother, even after she chose someone else.  He gave her a beautiful wedding gift that she held onto, never giving away who they were from.  He looked after Jamie as his own son.

Another memory fluttered to the front of her mind.  On her wedding night, Jamie had mentioned that Murtagh had compared Claire’s smile to Jamie’s mother.  Had she been a walking reminder of his lost love this entire time? A ghost of flesh and blood, walking around him, constantly reminding him of his years of longing.  A million little moments between them flooded her memory, changing with this new information to add a different angle to every conversation and look they had ever shared.    

Still wrapped tightly within Murtagh’s arms, Claire moved one hand from his shoulder to play with the edge of his jacket near his chest.  When she glanced up at him, she felt almost shy for a moment. There was something delicate in his gaze, a softness to his face that she had never seen before.

“You truly do look like her, in mind and beauty.  I was not fully convinced of you being a living being, the resemblance to Ellen was so strong.  Until you opened your mouth of course.” Murtagh paused, a smirk spreading across his lips.

“I was pleased when Dougal brought up the plan to rescue you from Randall.  Not just for your safety, but because marrying Jamie would mean that you would stay here.  Close to me, as a living reminder of my Ellen. On your wedding day, when the clouds broke away and the sun struck your face, I thought I would have to take over the ceremony and take you for myself.  It was as if the world was giving me a second chance, seeing you standing there glowing like a dream before me.”

Even in the low firelight, Claire could see the red that spread across Murtagh’s cheeks.  She pressed her hand against his chest, feeling the pounding beat of his heart against her fingers.  She was sure that her own heart was returning each beat from within her ribcage, like a bird trying to escape.  

The lost loves that they both longed for were out of reach, yet here they both were, starved for affection.  They were both so lost, and sad, yet they were together in this moment. A comfort to each other in the darkness.  

Perhaps it was all of that wine on an empty stomach, or the exhaustion of traveling, or the sky full of stars above them.  Claire may never admit what excuse she used to justify that night.

Claire slowly slid her hands up from his chest to frame Murtagh’s face.  She peered up into his eyes, her reflection gazing back at her from within.   He stood there perfectly still for several minutes, allowing Claire to study his face before moving her hands gently to cradle the back of his head.  Murtagh swallowed hard before he moved his hands hesitantly down her shoulders to the small of her back. The warmth of his hands was easily felt through the thin weaving of her shirt, and that heat seemed to spread from his touch across her body.  

A small voice inside her head told her that she should stop this, that they could go to sleep right now and go back to normal in the morning.  A louder voice from the lonely ache in her chest said that she needed this. They needed this.

Making up her mind, Claire ran one hand through Murtagh’s hair before pulling his head down to rest her forehead against his.  She shut her eyes tight, allowing the pressure from their pressed foreheads to calm her. Their breath came in shallow bursts between them.  Both stood still holding onto each other tightly. Claire rubbed her nose against his, causing a shiver to run through both of them.

She rubbed her nose against his again before opening her eyes to find his gaze fiery and full of intensity.  She stood on tiptoe so that they were eye to eye, gasping when Murtagh tightened his hold on her and pulled her flush against him.  Even through the layers of cloth between them, she could feel that he was already hard. Perhaps this was a mistake. While her mind had hesitations, her body responded immediately by filling with a burning heat.  

Wrapping one arm securely across her small waist, Murtagh brought a hand up to Claire’s chin.  He ran his thumb along her jawline, so softly it would have tickled if she wasn’t holding her breath.  He tipped her face up to his, studying every detail of her eyes, cheekbones, lips. His eyes lingered for a very long time on her lips before he drew her up to him.  Claire let her eyes fall closed as their lips met, and was surprised with the bristle of his beard. She had grown so accustomed to Jamie’s beautifully smooth face, longed for the way that he kissed her.  This kiss was a deep contrast to any that she’d had in the past.

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she was not certain that it had come from her own eye.  She sighed into the kiss, opening her mouth to allow Murtagh to explore with his tongue. It was clumsy, as if he wasn’t sure what to do.  The thought struck Claire, and she took pity on him. Perhaps he didn’t know what to do, if he has spent his entire life pining for someone he could never have.  

She wrapped her arms around his neck before diving back into his kiss.  Slipping her tongue against his parted lips, she let her tongue dance against his.  He tightened his hold on her, further pressing their bodies together until there wasn’t a breath between them.  His hands began running up and down her back, each time risking a little bit further down her curves until they came to rest firmly against her ass.  The thin material of her borrowed pants allowed him to feel her soft curves easily.

Murtagh grabbed her suddenly, lifting her into his arms before carrying her over to the soft grass beside the cave.  He sat with his back against the stone cliff, setting Claire on his lap. Reaching out for him, Claire placed her hands against his chest before leaning in for a deep kiss.  

Trembling hands ran down her back to grab her ass again, fingers squeezing into her flesh before pulling her down firmly against him.  Claire arched her back as her hips crushed into his, a delightful pressure where their bodies met. She let out a soft breath before opening her eyes to gaze at Murtagh.  He was flushed, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, and he let his mouth fall open with a moan as Claire ground her hips against him again.

Fingers made their way up and under the hem of Claire’s shirt before shocking her skin as they traced the line of her thin waist.  Murtagh’s hands were calloused and rough as they grazed across her soft skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. A shiver wove it’s way down her back at his touch, yet her body felt ready to burn up.  He bucked his hips up to meet hers, and the friction of him against her was delicious. She could feel his length between her thighs, hard and thick, straining against the heavy tartan fabric of his kilt.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Claire leaned back and pulled her loose shirt over her head, tossing it onto the beach below.  She watched the white fabric flutter to the ground before turning back to face Murtagh. He took several short breaths in as he gazed at her bare chest.  In the bright moonlight, her skin seemed to glow, and he brought a hand up to caress one of her full breasts. It fit perfectly in his palm, heavy and firm the way he had dreamed that it would be.  Pulling Claire close to him, Murtagh drew one pretty pink nipple into his mouth. He traced the tip of his tongue along the outline before sucking on it, loving the way it hardened in his mouth. Claire let out a little moan as Murtagh ran his teeth gently against her nipple, and his eyes rose to meet hers.  

“Did I hurt you?  I don’t have much experience with this.” He said quietly, an apologetic smile crossing his face.  

“That’s alright.” Claire soothed, cupping his face in her hand.  “I liked it.”

She felt his cock twitch between her thighs at the admission, and she glanced down at his lap.  Murtagh took a steadying breath before gripping Claire’s hips and grinding her down against him, holding her gaze the entire time.  Claire felt her face redden as heat filled her entire core, and she rocked back against him. Her hips rocked back and forth against his, faster and harder until they were both panting.  

Murtagh ran his hands along the frayed hem of her pants before rolling both of them over so that Claire lay against the grass with him looming above her.  The grass was cool and wet against her naked back, but she lifted her hips to help as Murtagh tugged her pants off and tossed them to the side. He leaned back to shake his jacket and shirt off, exposing a well muscled but scarred chest.  Claire looked him over, appreciating his form that was usually hidden beneath layers of fabric.

Leaning down, Murtagh placed a desperate kiss to Claire’s lips.  She could feel him shaking, and wondered if she was shivering as well.  Her fingers ran slowly down his bare chest to his kilt, tugging on the leather belt before it gave way, the kilt pooling on the ground.  Though both Frank and Jamie were well built men, neither compared to the specimen Claire now lay in front of. A little gasp escaped her lips as she took in Murtagh’s size, and a smirk spread across his face as he followed her gaze.  

“Like what you see then?” He asked, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

Claire licked her lips in response, nodding.  She reached out a hand, and ran her fingertips down his length, loving the shudder that shot through his body at her touch.  She wrapped her hand around his shaft and slid her hand slowly up and down his length, earning a low moan and a curse from Murtagh.  He shut his eyes tight, letting his mouth fall open slightly, losing himself in her touch. She reached up and grabbed his hand, sliding it between her legs.  Placing his hand between her lips, she placed his finger against her clit, and traced a circle with both of their hands. He traced the outer edges of her clit before rubbing it experimentally, drawing a whimper from Claire.  Her eyes were closed, a sweet expression of pleasure covering her sweet face. Murtagh continued rubbing her, loving the way her slim hips would buck up into his hand with each move he made. The prettiest little sounds were escaping her lips, and he couldn’t look away.  

Suddenly Claire pulled her hand away, and he worried that he had done something wrong.

“I need you.  Please.” Claire said, opening her arms for him.

Murtagh nodded, kneeling between her legs.  He gazed in wonder at her, sure that he’d never done a thing in his life to deserve such a vision as this.  She was beautiful, splayed out with her pale skin glowing in the moonlight. Stars shone brightly in her eyes, and he stared deeply into them as he slowly guided himself into her.  It was so warm, and tight, and perfect that at first he was afraid to move. Claire rocked her hips against him, forcing him deeper within her until he could feel her back walls. Never in his life had he felt so… completed.  Surrounded. Claire gasped at the sensation, unsure if the fullness of him inside of her was pleasurable or not.

“Are you alright?” Murtagh whispered, holding Claire’s cheek.

Claire nodded, and it was all the encouragement that Murtagh needed.  He pulled his hips back until only the tip was still inside of her, before sliding back in to the hilt.  Claire let out a moan, arching up to meet his thrust, and so he pulled back again before driving deeply into her.  It felt so good, so insanely good, that he began pounding into her harder and deeper. He could feel her moving below him, but he wanted to see her.

Rolling them both over, Murtagh lay back against the grass with Claire on top of him.  Her breasts heaved with each labored breath she took, and she leaned down to kiss him frantically.  She began to slide slowly up and down his shaft, kissing him with each thrust, their moans dissolving into each other.  His hands came up to grip her hips, bucking up to meet each thrust of hers, causing his throbbing cock to plunge deeper and deeper within her.  

Their breath became ragged as Claire rode him harder and harder, both of their hands digging painfully into the other’s skin as they struggled to hold on.  They were gaining speed, their rhythm growing frantic, filling the air with breathy moans that floated out across the water.

Suddenly Claire threw her head back, lovely dark curls trailing down her back as a rasping moan floated from her full lips.  Every inch of Murtagh’s body turned to fire, burning his blood and coursing through his veins until he could not stand it. He felt as if he would burst into a million flames, turning both of them into ash to blow away in the ocean breeze.  Claire tightened around him and the most beautiful moan burst from her lips, echoing against the walls of the cave. Her entire body shook, and forced Murtagh over the edge with her. They shuddered in unison, bodies still connected, before Claire collapsed onto his chest.  She released a deep, throaty breath that reverberated inside his chest as well.

They lay together in silence catching their breath, letting the sound of the waves wash over them.  The stars continued their slow dance across the sky, reflecting in the tears that slowly trailed down both tired faces.  A tiny sob threatened to escape from Murtagh’s throat, as he lay thinking about what they had done. Right at the moment of ecstasy, when he closed his eyes, it was Ellen who had been there with him.  The thought had re-broken his heart, and as Claire lay beside him, he heard her breathe out Jamie’s name into the chill air.

In the morning, they got washed and packed as if it were any other day.  Murtagh helped Claire up onto her horse, allowing his hands to linger a little too long on her waist.  They locked eyes, and both knew the truth.

There was nothing left to do but to continue their search for Jamie, even if it meant covering every last inch of Scotland to find him.                

  
  


 


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